


The Reason

by masongirl



Series: Request Game drabbles [5]
Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Austria, Canon Compliant, Crying, Drabble, Episode: s01e10 Points, Established Relationship, M/M, Memories, Nature, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scars, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 11:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24849202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masongirl/pseuds/masongirl
Summary: Carwood doesn't want Ron to see the worst of his scars.
Relationships: Carwood Lipton/Ronald Speirs
Series: Request Game drabbles [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792132
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	The Reason

**Author's Note:**

> Requested as part of a game I posted on Tumblr [here.](https://speirtongirl.tumblr.com/post/621121012587757568/request-game)

The sun has begun its descent towards the horizon, sharpening the colours of the mountains and painting shimmering shades on the lake's surface. It's a quiet afternoon. The snow capping the summits seems far away from this meadow, and its cold is just a distant memory. The lukewarm breeze combs Carwood's damp hair to one side like a consoling hand, and blades of grass caress his bare legs, whispering about peace. Life thrives here, buzzing, chirping and splashing in the water. Death and pain feel removed from this alpine paradise, and yet, this is where his heart splinters like an evergreen hit by a shell. He can hear the cracking, snapping wood as a sharp piece pierces his chest from the inside. Breathing hurts. 

"Lieutenant, come join me already!" Ron yells from the lake, sweeping his arms over the surface to flick droplets towards the shore. 

Carwood doesn't know why he used his rank, not his name, but he suspects he may have missed a few of Ron's calls already. They had a swimming contest with some of the other officers a couple hours ago, when the sunshine was still strong enough to tinge Carwood's cheeks pink and shed freckles on his shoulders. Dick won, and Nix offered to share his stash of wine with the sore losers. They headed back to town, but Ron wanted to stay, so Carwood did too, under the guise of keeping their guards up against potential enemy action. He and Ron lay together in the grass in their shorts, watched the clouds, napped and kissed until their mouths grew numb. Then, Ron went back into the lake, and Carwood's happiness crumbled from one moment to the next.

He reaches for his clothes and pulls them on, finding solace in the habitual, mindless movements and sounds, the hiss of his zipper, the pressure of the boots tightening around his feet. He's about to button his shirt when he hears the squelch of wet feet on grass coming closer. 

"Carwood, is everything all right?" Ron asks breathlessly, standing there naked as the day he was born and not showing any signs of bashfulness about it.

"Of course." He lies, conjuring a smile. "I just don't feel like swimming anymore. I'll wait here until you finish your laps."

"I already did." Ron replies promptly and grabs his clothes. He's an excellent liar. The only thing that gives him away right now is simple logic - he hasn't spent more than ten minutes in the water.

Carwood lowers himself back down to the ground and squints at the light reflected on the lake, seeing fairies that blur in and out of focus as he tries to control the ache behind his eyes. The smell of wet earth makes him curl his toes in his boots, but there's no mud in them, they are clean. The sting on his skin is a sunburn, not shrapnel. He fists his right hand in the grass, but doesn't tear into the meadow, not like Ron does sometimes. He just holds on, then lets go, and thinks of how a parachute sways in the air when a plane goes down in flames behind it.

Ron sits beside him and cups his cheek, thumb seeking out the ugly scar running across it, and Carwood turns as far away as his neck lets him. Ron's hand gets trapped between Carwood's shoulder and mouth, but Ron doesn't pull it away. The pads of his fingers wipe at the hot wetness that trickles down Carwood's face and the tip of his nose like his blood did in Carentan.

"I'm sorry." Carwood forces out of his too tight throat, and his shaky words brush the center of Ron's palm. 

They gather against it like the mist of an exhale would in a scarf when it's freezing cold, and Carwood presses his lips to Ron's skin to muffle a sob, just as he strangled his steadily worsening cough with his clothes in the Bois Jacques. He must compose himself. He has no idea why it collapsed on him, the scaffolding that held his and his boys' spirits up. Why now, when he could finally relax and have an unblemished moment of happiness after so long? Why?

"You don't need to hide any of your scars from me." Ron tells him. "Neither this, nor that." 

He nudges Carwood's scarred cheek again, then slides his hand down to Carwood's chest. His voice isn't quiet, but it's tender and honest. "I know you have them because of who you are, and that is the same reason why I love you. Because you care so deeply."

Carwood glances back at the glittering light-fairies on the lake and tries to let them go.

_ ~End~ _


End file.
